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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370079">tommy shelby lives</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenkmyers/pseuds/laurenkmyers'>laurenkmyers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Peaky Blinders (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Tenderness, tiny bit of fluff if you squint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:27:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenkmyers/pseuds/laurenkmyers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Post seasons 5- Tommy's failure to kill Oswald Mosely has him overthinking his own death, that is, until a phone call from his Godly partner in business and pleasure sets him straight. A little trip to Margate is just what Tommy needs to bring the fire back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>tommy shelby lives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Go into this fic with the prior knowledge that Tommy and Alfie have been fucking since the beginning of their journey together, because we all know they were, right?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
<p></p><div class=""><p>Thomas Shelby doesn’t die today.</p></div><div class=""><p>He doesn’t die the next day.</p></div><div class=""><p>Or the day after that.</p></div><div class=""><p>But Oswald Mosely does.</p></div><div class=""><p>Every night in Tommy’s dreams Mosely dies a most painful death, sometimes it’s so rejuvenating that Tommy wakes up laughing. The aches in his lower abdomen from the force of his unconscious laughter drag him from his bed. A terrified Lizzie moves to the guest bedroom.</p></div><div class=""><p>But no, reality hits him the moment the laughter dies.</p></div><div class=""><p>Mosely still lives, and that thought alone is enough to make him want to die all over again.</p></div><div class=""><p>Day after day. The message is as clear as the night is dark.</p></div><div class=""><p><em>Oswald Mosely lives</em>. And so does his fucking philosophy.</p></div><div class=""><p>But fate, as they say, is on Tommy’s side.</p></div><div class=""><p>Thomas Shelby doesn’t die today.</p></div><div class=""><p>He doesn’t die the next day.</p></div><div class=""><p>Or the day after that.</p></div><div class=""><p>No matter how hard he tries. Tommy Shelby lives to fight another day.</p><p> </p></div></div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The phone call comes about a week after the silence. A voice he knows by heart. A distinct southern drawl croons through the line.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Wanna talk about it, treacle?” The way the voice runs through his ear and trickles down his spine; a familiar twisting in his gut, letting him know he’s still alive. The first time he’s felt anything other than sorrow since his failure.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy breathes heavily down the phone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie allows the stillness to rest pretty between them, until the time is right.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I found him, Alfie.” Tommy finds his voice eventually, sucking in a deep lungful of smoke. He blows it back out in a wisp of cloud that suffocates the staleness in the air. “The man I can’t defeat.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The symphony of the Jew’s reply rumbles down the line. It makes Tommy’s legs tremble. Not in fear, but in something dark and wondrous that stirs heady in the junction of his thighs. A lively chuckle continues, piercing the quiet.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The fuck you ‘ave, mate.” He says, still chuckling away. “Think it’s time you got out of that big, lonely house, yeah, and you take a little trip. I ‘ave it on good fucking authority, mate, that the seaside is fanciful this time of year. Lots of ships to gawk at and the gulls get particularly cunty in the peace of the mornin’. Come and see me, Tom. Then I can tell ya to your pretty face just how wrong you are, sweetie. Oh,” He says quickly, on the cusp of goodbye, “…and bring Cyril with ya.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Thought you said it was better he believed you dead, Alfie.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Changed my mind, din’ I. A God such as myself Tom, yeah, he does as he bloody well pleases. I am no longer of this Earth, right, and thus, its pitiful rules that bound me to the whims of a madman need not apply.” The line goes quiet on the other end of the line, and any sane person would take that lasting statement as the end, but Tommy knows better. He listens to the tell-tale sign of Alfie’s beard as it scrapes along the mouthpiece. The corner of Tommy’s mouth turns up at the corner in what might be described as a smile. The sound of Alfie’s booming voice comes through the receiver again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Now… be a good boy Thomas and put on one of those fancy suits you know I love, get in that ridiculous bloody thing you call a ve-hicle, and bring me my fucking dog.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie never asks twice.  </p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> ***</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy arrives in Margate in less than four hours. He’s greeted at the door by the friendly face of Alfie’s maid, who is clearly expecting him because she bows politely as he approaches the door. They exchange mannerly greetings, and then her eyes light up as Tommy hands her the lead that’s securely fastened around the big dog’s neck. She sees to it that Cyril is taken care of before she leads him straight to Alfie’s study. <em>As if he doesn’t already know the way</em>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie is standing where he usually does, a broad silhouette by the arched window; bathed in the reddish hues of the descending sun. A welcome sight.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Took your time, love.” He mumbles, not once taking his eyes off the impressive skyline.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Missed you too, Alfie.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie grumbles at him, pointing his cane over at the unoccupied chair he’d sat in not that long ago.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah. Right.” He clears his throat in a way that suggests he’s about to admit something he’d rather not, “<em>Missing you, </em>right, ain’t a sentiment I ever planned for, Tommy. Snuck up on me, didn’t it. Viper sharp grip on a man’s balls, it is, Tom.” He makes a slow fist with his hand, cracking each knuckle as it tightens. “And worry, yeah. Another foreign concept I never once thought to have, Tom, and yet-” he pauses, putting heavy emphasis on the letter ‘t’, “Here I am, right, <em>worrying</em> about your miserable fucking life. An’ all the while that fascist, anti-Semitic <em>cunt</em> that you said you was gonna shoot in the face, yeah, still sits on his fucking throne.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>During his speech Alfie has made his way over to his favourite chair and slumps down onto it, mimicking the words he spits at Tommy, and just when Tommy thinks he’s finished Alfie finally looks at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And <em>me</em>, Tommy, right.<em> I</em> don’t hear a word, mate. Not a single, <em>fucking</em> word. Have to read about it in the newspaper, din’t I? While the Gypsy King sits at home, in his comfortable fucking chair puffing away on the filthy death traps he always has, case in point, right-” He gestures wildly at the lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. “…between his sinful fucking lips. D’you see my dilemma, Tommy?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie’s confession is left to fester; moulding over the cracks in Tommy’s half dead heart as he puts the pieces together. But he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with the information Alfie has so freely given him. He’s never known the man be quite so brutal in the face of his feelings before. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy’s isn’t a complete fucking idiot, he knows their feelings for each other have always been something more than just business partners who fuck, they wouldn’t have been fucking for as long, or as often, if feelings hadn’t been present in one way or another, but they’ve never been so <em>blatant</em> before. <em>It scares the fuck out of him. </em>He genuinely doesn’t know what to do in the reality of it all. So Tommy does what he always does, he deflects.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Are you done?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie barks out a knowing laugh. “Yeah mate, I’m fucking done.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Something inside Tommy shifts at the overt nonchalance, and he watches Alfie pick up his fucking binoculars to distract from Tommy’s obvious brush-off. It shouldn’t invoke feelings of aggravation, but it does. It pisses him the fuck off.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He walks determinedly over to where Alfie is sat, puts his hands on his broad shoulders, and confidently mounts the man without saying a word. Tommy forces his knees to slide either side of Alfie’s thighs, snatches the stupid trinket out of his hand placing it lightly on the table, and tugs Alfie none-too-gently into a passionate kiss- cutting off Alfie’s no doubt boastful retort. He bites down hard on Alfie’s plump bottom lip and congratulates himself on the low groan that rumbles from his lover’s chest. He continues his assault, shoving his tongue inside to explore the warmth being willingly granted to him. When he’s made his point he pulls back all too quickly. Alfie’s beard tickles his top lip as he chases him and Tommy has to bite down hard to stop the noise threatening to spill from his traitorous mouth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy leans back and watches the way Alfie’s eyes flutter open when he comes to realise Tommy’s lips are no longer attached to his own.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That, mate, was a cruel kind of teasing, yeah.” He says as he trails his tongue over his bottom lip, like he’s savouring the taste of Tommy’s kiss.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His pupils are blown and his lips have a light sheen of spit making them near impossible not to want. Alfie eyes Tommy all over, taking him in at such a close distance. But his brow furrows after a moment of appreciation. He traces a ringed finger over Tommy’s jaw line, lingering with the softest touch. A shiver wracks Tommy’s body. He knows Alfie can feel the effect of his touch, but thankfully, he doesn’t dwell on it. He does drag Tommy closer though, aligns their hardened cocks, smirking into it, and then bucks up into the friction.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie’s hold grounds him, makes him feel safe. Makes him feel <em>powerful</em>. And with that power comes the confidence to say what he might not have said given the circumstances.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m sorry.” Tommy says, barely a whisper in the wind. But he knows Alfie hears him, loud and clear, because he stops bucking his hips and watches him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Run that by me again, mate.” He quips, tilting his head to look at Tommy under his lashes, a smug civility in his reply. He wants Tommy to own up to it, waits patiently as Tommy gears himself up. His throat dries instantly, but he clears the blockage with a cough and pushes on, like the man he is.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m trying to apologise, Alfie. If you’ll let me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie smiles. “As you were, sweetheart.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Right.” Tommy says on a sigh, looking anywhere but at Alfie. He’s not use to feeling this bloody vulnerable, but he knows it’s needed, especially seeing earlier how open Alfie was with him. <em>He can do this.</em> Alfie’s probably the only person in the world he can do this with. <em>His equal</em> in every sense of the word.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It was not my intention to burden you with worry, Alfie. And for that, I’m sorry.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And the world doesn’t crumble because a gangster gone politician tells the truth. A simple, but persistent weight is lifted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Well, that wasn’t so difficult now, was it Tom? Apology accepted o’course. Yeah, all is forgiven, treacle. No harm, no foul. Can’t be holding grudges in our line of work, right, s’not wise to do, yeah. Causes all sorts of terrible squabbles amongst the civilians, right, and I don’t care much for squabbles no more, Tommy, getting too old for that shit.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And just like that, the mood shifts again and with Alfie’s reply comes the banterous familiarity they find themselves so often drenched in. Alfie is still waffling on a minute later, so Tommy grinds down on Alfie’s (thankfully) still hard cock, which effectively makes his voice waver in its raw form, but doesn’t cut him off completely, so Tommy dives in and connects their lips in a messy, open mouthed kiss. Alfie is momentarily taken aback at the abruptness of the kiss, but easily folds under the pressure and let’s himself sink into it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>During the distraction Tommy manages to tear open the flowing white shirt Alfie’s wearing. He’s split it clear in half so that Alfie’s glorious chest is now free-reign for Tommy’s eager tongue. He rips his mouth from Alfie’s and delves into the expanse of wild chest hair, nipping and sucking before wrapping his teeth around a hard nipple.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Fucking ‘ell, Tommy…” Alfie groans audibly from above, “You tryin’ to finish me off before we’ve even started, yeah? Put them gnashers away, right, and get them immoral fuckin’ lips around my cock- where they belong, right.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy looks up at him with a raised brow, a twitching cock of his own, and a bite-back ready on his lips. But Alfie sees the fight in him and does not hesitate to put him in his place.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Did I fucking stutter, mate?” Alfie says, asserting his dominance. He forces Tommy to his knees, dragging his pants halfway down his legs in the process, and then shoves Tommy’s head towards his aching cock.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re gonna look so pretty when I ruin you, yeah.” He grabs Tommy’s chin and tilts it up. “Now, blue eyes on me, right. You know the rules, Tom.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Fuck</em>.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>---</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy loves control. In<em> most</em> aspects of life, he fucking <em>thrives</em> on it. It’s evident in the way he runs his businesses, his stables, his money, and most importantly, his <em>family</em>. He’s a man who relishes the thrill of knowing he’s the one that holds all the cards.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But the bedroom is his safe space, somewhere Tommy can <em>let go</em>. He’s been with his fair share of men and women in the past. He takes what he needs and he moves on. It’s how he’s always done it. That’s why he used to frequent the brothels so often. No one judged you for wanting.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And then there was Grace. His beautiful wife. She was a blip in his ever-present amour, a woman with enough fire to not only light the flame, but keep it burning; warming his cold, dead heart back to life.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Being with Alfie is different still. It started way back when as a blurry line between business and pleasure. The attraction was instantaneous, even with Grace in the picture, god rest her soul.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>What Tommy needs from Alfie is something only a man of his raw power can provide.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sometimes, Tommy just needs to get completely and utterly <em>ruined</em>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s beautiful man. He’s been told by many before; men and women alike fall at his feet at the slightest temptation.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But the moment he met Alfie Solomon’s he knew he’d found his equal. Laying eyes on Alfie Solomons was a rush of adrenaline he’d never felt before; a spike of fear that lingers in the bitter air, and then fades so quickly it’s like it never even existed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Underneath his scruffy appearance, Alfie Solomons is pure hulking muscle. If his reputation for being a complete and utter psychopath isn’t enough, he exudes a kind of energy that most people immediately cower at. Unless, of course, you’re Thomas Shelby. T</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy prides himself on rising from the ashes of the weak men who fall before him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It doesn’t take them long to fall into bed together the first time, hell- they don’t even make it out of the office before Alfie has him bent over his desk, pounding away, with a strong hand at his throat cutting off his oxygen. And during the rush of it all, Tommy finally wakes up. He’s never looked back since.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie is the <em>only one</em> he can trust to give him what he needs: <em>the freedom of oblivion.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And the rest, as they say, is history.</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>---</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Present Alfie is getting impatient. Tommy tends to get stuck in his own head at times, so Alfie has to bring him out of it, usually relishes the idea, but tonight his lack of restraint wins out as he forces his cock further down Tommy’s throat. Despite the intrusion to his windpipe, it works all the same, Tommy gags and chokes and is about to pull back when Alfie puts both hands on the back of his head to keep him right where he is.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You back with me, sweetheart? You know I don’t like it when you get lost in that head of yours. Want you to look at me as I fuck that pretty mouth. Little bit longer and then I’ll let you breathe, yeah.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy’s eyes start to water as he pushes past the point of the gag reflex and swallows round the girth of Alfie as he hits the back of his throat. He breathes in deeply through his nose and hums in delight at the noises he hears being torn from Alfie’s throat.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s it, Tommy. Fu-cking ‘ell, you’re so good.” His mumbling turns into incoherent words of encouragement as he closes in on his endgame. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But Alfie’s not done playing. He wrenches Tommy off with a vicious <em>pop</em> and bends down to capture his messy lips in a kiss, moaning hellishly at his own taste on Tommy’s tongue.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When he pulls back to look at him Tommy thinks he must look a right state. His lips feel puffy and used, his eyes are wet with tears, and his hair has fallen limp from Alfie’s rough fingers. The vanity he prides himself on claws its way to the surface of his subconscious, compelling him to put the facade back on. But Alfie takes one look at him and chuckles darkly. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He used to hate the way Alfie could see into the very core of him, the way he’d take and take and take until Tommy had nothing left to give. But now he knows how much he needs that kind of release, so he pushes the crimpling anxiety back into its box and watches Alfie watching him. He <em>knows</em> Alfie enjoys the view, can literally see him savouring the spectacle of Tommy in such a state of disarray, delighting in the fact that he’s the cure for Tommy’s internal destruction. His face moulds into an arrogant smirk. Tommy’s insides liquefy.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You look utterly debauched, mate.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy tries to talk but his throat feels so used in the best way possible, so instead he grunts out what sounds like a pleasing noise of approval and stands to shaky legs.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Where’dya think you’re going then?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I only brought one suit, Alfie.” Tommy croaks as he steps out of his trousers and folds them in a way they won’t crease.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Well, ain’t that a down right shame, Tommy, right, coz I don’t give a fuck, mate. Get back over here. I’m not nearly done with you yet.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy’s entire body lights up at his words. He slowly makes his way back over to Alfie and waits patiently for his next command.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Okay,” Alfie says, as he sits up straighter on the chair and trails his large hands up Tommy’s naked thighs and round to his plump ass. He lets them rest there for a moment, before he squeezes both cheeks in his hands and pulls him so that he’s practically straddling one of his meaty thighs. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie looks him up and down from his new position. “Seeing as how you love the show of it all, yeah, sweetie. I want you to take off every scrap of clothing, right, exactly as you are.” He sinks back down into his chair and links his fingers over his chest. “Go on…I’ll wait. I can be a patient man when I wanna be, Tommy.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy would normally put up more of a fight, but he does enjoy obeying Alfie’s orders in the heat of the moment from time to time. Mostly his predatory instincts do kick in though and his natural response is always to <em>fight back</em>. Today, however, he’s tired of fighting, and he’s entirely too eager to have Alfie inside him. So he shamelessly strips off the rest of his clothes with methodical precision, not a single word of disobedience crosses his lips. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s not however, moving fast enough for Alfie apparently as the self-proclaimed <em>patient man </em>huffs in what is clearly displeasure at being kept waiting.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Come on Tommy, gonna be as limp as a dead fish in a minute if you don’t get on wiv’ it.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Shut the fuck up, Alfie.” Tommy replies, pleased that his defiance has finally decided to show up. And before Alfie can utter another word to wind him up Tommy produces a small bottle of oil, pops the lid, coats his fingers, and grabs Alfie’s cock. He pumps him vigorously up and down, effectively cutting off the impatient man’s whining with force of action.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Luckily, Tommy had already prepped himself on his fingers in the bath this morning, so getting Alfie inside him is the only priority now. He climbs back onto the man’s thighs, pushes Alfie back against the high rise of the chair with one hand firmly on his chest, raises himself up onto his knees whilst the other hand still tightly grips Alfie’s greedy cock. Once he feels secure in his new position he lines Alfie’s weeping head to his already slickened entrance and slams home without any prior warning. Tommy takes it all in one go, he throws his head back in satisfaction and grinds his hips back and forth to widen the stretch. He feels<em> full.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie has been sceptically quiet the entire time. Tommy can hear the occasional grunt, but for a man of many, <em>many</em> words, he’s suspiciously docile.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What’s the matter, Alfie?” Tommy asks goadingly, surprising himself at the steadiness of his voice as he casually bounces up and down the hard length inside him. “Cat got your, tongue?” He prods further, hoping to elicit a response from his silent lover.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah, yeah,” Alfie says, continuing to groan unintelligibly as he plants his feet on the ground to steady himself. “The cat, right. Feral fucking thing, yeah…” He continues to babble, thrusting his hips up into Tommy, catching him on his downward descent, which knocks the breath from his lungs at the sheer force behind it. “Got some fucking claws on it, mate. Caught a man by surprise didn’t it. Won’t ‘appen again.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alfie’s thrusts are relentless from that point onwards; he fucks him hard and fast, like a man possessed. It’s almost like he’s trying to punish Tommy for his earlier stunt. Alfie hates being caught off-guard. But Tommy considers it a win as he lets Alfie fill him up until he’s a boneless mess of useless limbs. They continue their back and forth for what feels like hours.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tommy’s head lolls, his mouth drops open, and his eyes roll back into his skull; completely spellbound in Alfie’s formidable brutality. Eventually he feels a steady palm wrap around his exposed neck to hold him still. The pressure brings him back down to earth. He locks eyes with Alfie and is drawn in by the look of awe written plainly across his face. He allows himself a moment of peace as he refuses to look away, goading the other man to be the one to break the connection. He’s so distracted by the tenderness he sees reflected in Alfie’s gaze that he barely notices he’s being pulled in for a kiss. It’s gentle and sweet when their lips finally touch; a stark contrast to their usual ruthlessness. <em>He thinks he kinda likes it.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The kiss ends when Alfie strikes the sweet spot inside of him, as his lips are ripped from their sanctuary with an audible moan. Tommy’s overwhelmed by the gentle turn of their fucking that he can’t quite handle the way it sparks something scorching hot in the pit of his stomach. And that, plus the feeling of Alfie nailing his prostate on every upward thrust causes him to reach his climax a lot sooner than expected. He falls into the crook of Alfie’s neck and bites down hard when he comes, painting both himself and Alfie’s chest in ropes of white. He can feel Alfie’s momentum waning, the stutter in his hips giving him away.</p>
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  <p>“Come inside me, Alfie.” Tommy whispers into his neck.</p>
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  <p>It prompts the exact response he was hoping for as Alfie pumps into him once, twice, thrice before roaring in Tommy’s ear and letting himself be drained dry, completely spent. They slump together messily after they’re done; a mixture of come, sweat, blood, and tears as they catch their breaths.</p>
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  <p>Tommy comes around first, but he can’t quite bring himself to move just yet, doesn’t want to. So he stays, exactly where he fell, stroking soft caresses down the back of Alfie’s neck. He’s content right where he is; <em>alive</em> for the first time since his failure on the stage that was his latest battlefield. He allows that thought to die swiftly as he lets himself be held by the solid arms of Alfie Solomons. Knowing now he might just have the strength to do what needs to be done.</p>
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  <p>But for now, he just needs this.</p>
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  <p>Tommy Shelby <em>lives</em>.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come and scream at me over on tumblr: laurenkmyers</p></blockquote></div></div>
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